Trust Us to Trust You
by NattiDino
Summary: We got some deaf!Clint, Natasha being generally awesome and everyone else making a fool of themselves. I honestly have no idea where this is going, it just popped into my head and I felt like sharing. Enjoy, hope it's ok. Rated T because of swear words :)
1. Chapter 1

Clint stared at the grey, metallic wall opposite his bed. It held an array of weaponry; cross-bows, hand guns, sniper rifles and a collection of compound and recurve bows. His lips twitched slightly as he sat up on the freshly made sheets and surveyed the room, the wall seemed to be the only place that had any order to it, the rest of the room was filled with bits of dismantled guns, half used cartridges, bow strings, cogs and lots and lots of arrows. It looked like a platoon of snipers had been living there, not just him. He stretched and groaned as he pulled the tender muscles of his back, it was time for coffee and an aspirin – or six. Hopping nimbly from his bed to the door, he pulled a pair of socks on and blinked a couple of times as the daylight hit him from the corridor. It was just after ten and he groaned inwardly, the others would probably be in the common area of the newly christened 'Avenger's Tower'.

It wasn't that he didn't like them exactly but, well, they hadn't exactly met on the best of terms. Almost fifteen years of living either alone or with Natasha hadn't really enhanced his people skills and he could think of nothing worse than having to spend an extended period of time with any one person, let alone five others. So when the order came through from Fury that he and Natasha would be moving in to the newly renovated tower he had kicked up a fuss. In fact, he mused as he silently padded towards the kitchenette; it was probably the most he had ever said to the Director. He grabbed the coffee from the top cupboard and hastily flung it into a mug. He mindlessly stirred the granules while waiting for the water to boil.

An arm suddenly appeared around his shoulder and, as any trained assassin would do, Clint whirled round and quickly floored his attacker, holding the teaspoon he had been using up to their throat.

"Whoa, Bird-boy. Easy," Starks face glared up at Clint as he relaxed and removed his knee from the other man's chest, "Jeez Clint, we've been talking to you for ages, why don't you try answering in future?" Tony rubbed his neck and Clint saw the expectant eyes of Cap and Banner, waiting for an explanation.

Fuck. The one time he doesn't have the bug-aids and this is what happens. The in-ear hearing aids had been annoying him though. They had been a size too small and either fell out or rattled about so much that the noises were distorted beyond any hope of recognition. He'd tried to keep them in but when they'd fallen out in the shower it had been the last straw. They were never going to work after that amount of waterlogging. All he'd wanted was a pick me up before he went down to the firing range to hurl off a few dozen arrows.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, unable to hear his own voice he had to go off of the vibrations he felt through his face and jaw, "Sorry." He turned quickly to leave but saw Natasha standing in his way.

You may as well tell them, she signed. He glared at her. This was not something he was going to discuss, they didn't have the clearance level for one and for two, he was already on the fringes of the group as it was, what with not only being completely human but also trying to kill them all. He did not need to be completely despised, or mollycoddled.

A growl escaped from his throat as Natasha barred the door further.

"For God sake Clint, just tell them." She said out loud. Oh, thanks Nat, he thought as he turned round to face the three expectant faces.

"Tell us what?" Steve asked, his innocent boyish looks hardened into a frown. Banner seemed anxious, while Tony's eyes gleamed with intrigue. Clint's shoulders sunk and he put the teaspoon he was still holding down on the island counter.

"It's nothing, just, I, uhm, don't hear too well." He spluttered out eventually, "It doesn't matter, it's just…" he trailed off as he realised the others were all talking at once. Groaning inwardly once more he held up a hand for them to stop. Lip reading was easy enough, he had been doing it since he was a kid, but it still confused him when more than one person was talking at once.

"Guys, guys, GUYS!" He felt himself yelling and the men promptly shut up and turned to face his again.

"How well is not too well?" Banner asked, he was the only one still directly facing him.

"Uh, like, 80 – 95%?" his felt his face becoming redder and redder, and forced himself to breath. He had a feeling his words were slurring together but he couldn't be sure.

"Still there?" as a doctor Banner was probably the easiest person to talk to.

"Gone."

"Why didn't we know this before? This could be detrimental to our battlefield tactics. What if you can't hear when we're fighting, how are we supposed to contact you? This creates a liability on the field that we don't need." Rogers ranted quickly, the muscles in his jaw tightening, making it difficult for Clint to catch everything that had been said. He'd caught the gist of it though. He wasn't needed. Liability. The word he despised more than anything else in the world, more than disabled. He had fought tooth and nail to get to where he was. Even as a kid he had had to fight the other boys just to be heard, just to get fed, at S.H.I.E.L.D. he'd had agents refuse to work with his because they feared he wouldn't hold up under pressure. They were scared he wouldn't respond. Or that he would shoot the wrong target. He'd never understood how they could think his ears somehow had control over where his bow pointed. And now his abilities were being questioned again.

"Great, well, glad we had this chat. I'll be out of here by tonight." He spat angrily, pushing his way passed Natasha and not bothering to try and comprehend what she was saying.

She heard his door slam shut and winced. Steve really didn't translate well into the 21st century. His face caved in as he realised what words had escaped his mouth but Natasha felt like twisting the knife a bit more.

"Good going Cap. Really, just the response he was looking for." She glared, "You should all try thinking the next time you open your damn mouths" with that she turned to leave, swinging her hips ferociously and heels clacking against the hardwood floor. She thought about heading to see Clint but decided against it, it would only cause them to yell at each other. It had been her fault, she shouldn't have pushed him, but it was better that they knew today instead of finding out on the field.

She found herself in the gym and pulled her shirt off so that she was standing in a sports bra and leggings. She needed a few hours to punch the crap out of one of the sandbags that was hanging up in there. It made her feel mildly better.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve sat in silence. His normally chipper mood soured by the guilt that he, and Natasha, held over him. He had realised as soon as the words had escaped his mouth that they were the wrong thing to say but he had been upset that the assassin hadn't confided in them. They had been working together for almost a year and Clint still refused to talk to them. Steve knew that he was competent on the field, never once had he missed a shot, and a valuable member of the team but he hadn't bothered trying to connect on a personal level with any of them. Even Natasha, after a considerable amount of coaxing, had joined in with movie nights and the 'family dinner' that they had once a week. Steve sighed, he needed to talk to the archer - that much was obvious – but at that particular moment he couldn't find the words.

He stood and stretched, 2pm already, he mused, and decided to wash the large stack of dishes that had gathered over at the sink. It would have been easier to put them in the dishwasher but he didn't really know how it worked, and anyway, the repetitive motion calmed him. He clunked the mugs and plates into the sink and gave a slight nod as Bruce strode past. It wasn't often that he looked so decisive and Steve didn't want to upset another person today.

Bruce made his way to the archer's room. He made sure his footsteps were loud and when he thumped the door he felt it sway slightly at the impact. He didn't want to startle Clint and end up with an arrow through his eye, the big guy certainly wouldn't like that either. He banged on the door again and heard a string of expletives from inside, or what he presumed were expletives as they had slowly turned into a multitude of different languages. There was some thumping and a loud crash before Clint's face finally appeared at the door.

"Wha'?" the archer said, rubbing at his ear, "I'm alrea'y leavin', jus' lemme pack." He turned back around to continue shoving clothes into a duffel bag but left the door open. Bruce was surprised at the amount of stuff Barton actually had, although on closer inspection he realised that it was mainly weaponry or armour, but stepped in any way, carefully trying not to tread on anything.

"Clint, I," he stopped realising that with his back to him the archer wasn't going to respond. He wondered if it was intentional. Moving closer to him Bruce put a tentative hand out on to the other man's shoulder. It was still fresh in his mind what had happened that morning and he didn't fare his chances any better, especially not with the amount of lethal objects here but the muscles were quick to relax after momentarily flexing. He turned around staring at Banner. The doctor realised half a second later that the intense stare was probably so that he could read his lips. He began talking at a slightly slower speed than normal, trying to be accommodating.

"Clint, I'm sorry about Cap, what he said was completely out of order, but he knows he shouldn't have, and he's feeling pretty guilty already." Barton began to turn away, "Look, I get it; you don't want people to know. Come on, you've got to trust us to trust you. We're teammates; we need to know these things, so that we can help one and other. You've saved us all more times than we give you credit for and," Bruce took a deep breath because where he was going next was sensitive territory, "we don't blame you for what happened with Loki. It wasn't your fault."

"Don't" Clint tensed visibly.

"Clint. Just talk to us, please?" A grunt came from the archer as he hopped nimbly through the piles of stuff over his floor and into the en suite. There was no way Bruce was even going to fathom going through it all and half of it looked highly explosive anyway. He stood in the middle of the bedroom, unsure of what to do next when Clint reappeared carrying a small box, he pulled two objects out and clipped them on to his ears. Bruce quickly realised they were hearing aids. He wondered why he had never noticed them before.

"Stop staring." Clint ordered, his voice clear now he could hear it again, "They're spares, and seen as how y'all like to talk at once it's easier than not having anything."

"Why didn't you just," Bruce stopped as he realised that as Clint hadn't wanted anyone to know he wouldn't have chosen to wear them. They weren't flashy as such, but they were certainly noticeable. "Never mind." He said and ungainly ambled to the door.

Clint followed close behind, he hated the over the ear aids, they were heavy and tinny compared to his usual pair. He would much rather have been without them, but considering there was probably going to be a lot of questions and talking he didn't feel like making a complete fool of himself, not that he hadn't already. He clicked and fiddled with the controls on them, trying to get them level but until he'd actually had a conversation with someone it would be hard to tell if they were right or not. He was betting on the 'not' side of the scale.

Tony was sitting on the couch with a StarkPad on his lap moving and twisting blueprints and schematics around at an astounding speed. He looked totally engrossed in what he was doing but glance up as the pair walked in. He quickly dropped the tablet, intrigue once again filling his eyes. Steve kept his face down on the dishes he was cleaning, trying to avoid eye contact. Clint pointedly cleared his throat and after a cursory glance he couldn't stop himself,

"I'm sorry, really, I didn't mean to say what I did. I wasn't thinking and it just came out. I'm so sorry. You've done more for us than I could ever thank you for. I know you've saved my back a few times and this doesn't change anything." Steve babbled, waiting for someone to stop him. Clint just watched him, silently documenting everything that Cap was saying. It wasn't often you caught him off guard like this and it was interesting to see how he handled the situation. It took a few minutes for Clint to tell him to stop, although he would have enjoyed letting poor guy go on for a lot longer.

"Cap." He said, "It's the exact same reaction everyone has, I guess I was expecting our all-American hero to be a little more empathetic but obviously I guessed wrong. Just remember this, for once I've cleared out, in fifteen years of S.H.I.E.L.D. and over 2000 operations, not once have I ever screwed up beyond repair, with or without being able to hear."

"Sounds like our little bluebird's done alright for himself." Tony chipped in. "Man, I have no problem with you staying but, hey, if you're set on leaving…" he gave a shrug and left. How un-Tony of him. No witty comment? No banter? No general rudeness? Clint stopped, momentarily confused by the interruption. The levels certainly weren't right in his ears.

"I never said you were off the team, those were your words." Steve chimed up, gaining his composure, "As far as I'm concerned if you feel confident enough out in the field I have no reason to doubt you. That said it would have been nice to know earlier."

"I think that's always the general consensus when it comes to Clint actually talking." A red faced, sweaty Natasha appeared behind the Captain, "He has such a way with words, everything just flows out of him in one big rush of emotion. Every day, I have to put up with the endless yak-yak-yakking that he does. Honestly, it drives me insane."

Clint snorted and smiled. It was a smile Natasha hadn't seen since before he had left for New Mexico and she welcomed it with a small up-turn of her lips.

"Yeah, thanks Nat." Clint said, feigning grumpy.

"So," Cap said warily, "How did you lose your hearing?"


	3. Chapter 3

Clint hesitated. To tell them this was to open up to them and he didn't know if he could do that. Cap and Banner occupied one couch while Tony, Pepper and the newly arrived Thor sat on the other. Nat strutted over, placing mugs of coffee down on the glass table. She glanced down at him and narrowed her eyes, daring him to take a sip before talking again. It was her idea to tell everyone in one group instead of individually – which Clint would have preferred – and with Thor's unannounced arrival she had the upper hand. He tried to relax. Trust, he repeated over and over in his mind, trust, trust, trust. Taking a deep breath he pushed down the years of suppressed emotional trauma and began.

"Officially, I let a sonic arrow loose in too close a proximity and busted up my ears. It's all you'll find on the S.H.I.E.L.D. database and is what those with clearance level six and up get to know. Which includes all of you." Clint took a swig of coffee and glanced at Natasha. She gave him a death glare. "However, seeing as y'all are much too invested in this whole 'trust' game, it has been made clear that reality is the easiest move here. Well, I was stupid - and cocky. My hearing's never been all that great either, from the circus and when I was a kid, but only a year in, you think you're invincible. So I was up on this roof, waiting for the target to come into sights, and I was there for 2 hours, just waiting. Most boring part of the job, having to just sit there doing nothing. I got bored, no one was out on the streets below and I'm thinking I'm not going to get the call that night. I start shootin' stuff. Nothing big, or far away, just crap that's laying out where I'm stationed. Then after maybe an hour of this I get the call and take the shot. No biggie. I must have alerted someone though, cause next thing I know there's maybe six guys up there with me, big guys too, and smart. And they sure as hell ain't happy that I just killed their boss-man. So, you know, fighting, yellin', get two of them down but there was no way I was gonna get them all. I tried to run but a couple of them grabbed me, tied me down. You know, they do the basic stuff, cigarette burns, broken fingers, but they want to 'get creative' so they take it inside." Clint looked up from his swirling coffee to see that he had the rapt attention of the whole room. He gives a dry laugh, "Nothing all that exciting, just the usual; pliers, barbed wire, but they did enjoy playing with a couple live wires. A lot. Probably too much, cause they put up these live wires behind my ears and, well, no more sound. Shorted out my inner ear."

The room was silent for a few seconds.

"That's… where was Coulson?" Pepper finally asked. The tension in the room diluted, obvious sighs of relief coming from almost everyone.

"Coulson wasn't my handler back then; I had some idiot with just about as much experience as I did. He didn't realise I hadn't checked in until a couple of hours after the allocated time. I think he's somewhere in Thailand now, on a clean-up team."

"Poor bastard." Natasha snorted. Everyone on the helicarrier knew it where the rejects were sent until their contracts ran out.

"Got that right, Coulson became my handler after the first five year contract was up." Clint smiled momentarily, "Didn't know what he was getting himself in for."

He stood, running his calloused hands through the short sandy-brown hair on his head. He'd had enough family time for one day, no matter what his fellow assassin threatened he was not going to be sitting about telling them his life story, and pointedly strode out of the living area. He was sure it looked like a dick-move but the aids had been irritating him all day and he needed some down time to collect what little sanity he had left. Divulging his personal life to others was not an activity he enjoyed frequently, it brought him out in a cold sweat and he was almost certain some nightmare or other would haunt him for the next few nights. Not that they didn't every other night, these ones would just be more potent than the rest.

Shaking his head slightly he hopped gracefully down the stairs to the gym level of the tower. Nothing better to keep the monsters of his mind at bay than lashing out at a defenceless punching bag for a few hours. And maybe put some miles in on the treadmill. And of course lots of shooting practice.

He realised he wasn't going to be sleeping that night.

"Well that was certainly something." Stark piped up after Clint had left the room, "Legolas always so blunt?"

"No." Natasha answered, "You'll be lucky to find him say anything about his past, consider yourselves lucky you didn't get an arrow through your eye after he'd finished." She curled up on the couch and flicked the TV on. Thor looked to have many questions to ask and gave Tony a small lift of the eyebrows. The two quickly left but Natasha could still hear his booming voice above the sound of the television. Pepper, Cap and Banner all sat in shocked silence.

"How can you just brush it off like that?" Cap asked eventually, "That's horrific. It just," he shook his head.

"It comes with the job I suppose. Like paperwork, it's one of the worst parts of the job but it has to happen at some point or another." Natasha said quietly, distracted by the program she was watching. Over the years they had both been the victim and the cause of all kinds of cruelty and torture, it was something that they had acclimatised to and learnt how to deal with. It didn't make it any less agonising but at least they could leave the guilt and shame on the helicarrier instead of bringing it home. She frowned. She couldn't remember when she had started referring to the tower as home.

"Yes but, he didn't even seem fazed to mention what those men did. Neither did you. Breaking bones, electrocution? It was all so casual." Pepper said, "The past must be a very dark place for you."

Natasha muttered a half-hearted agreement.

"It just seems as though neither of you really experienced any real childhood or,"

Natasha sat bolt upright, "Let me make this very clear to you. I like you. That doesn't mean you can go digging around our past, and make sure Stark doesn't either. You won't like what you find." She growled out the last sentence and turned back to the TV her face a mask. Any mention of her childhood brought the worst out in her. Pepper was dazed for only a few seconds,

"I never even contemplated reading your files but if you're that insecure about what you've done then, JARVIS?" she called.

"Yes Ma'am?" a polite English accent answered back. Natasha tensed, she wasn't overly fond of the AI and knew Clint wasn't either.

"Put a block on all S.H.I.E.L.D. files relating to Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton please. Do not let Tony bypass these measures." She flounced out the room, leaving Cap and Banner to stare awkwardly after her. The two men knew better than to get involved in the various cat fights the two women had, especially after the first time Cap had tried to break it up and ended up almost getting thrown out one of the tall glass windows by a fuming Romanoff. He sat there wondering what to do.

He cleared his throat, "I'm going to go down to the gym, want to join me?" he asked Banner. Before the doctor could answer Natasha piped up again.

"I wouldn't." She glanced over her shoulder at the two men.

"Why not?" Steve asked, genuinely curious.

"Barton's going to be down there and he won't be pleased to see you."

"I'm sure,"

"No."

"Not even,"

"No."

"Just,"

"No."

"Then when will he be finished?" Banner interrupted the exchange. He didn't particularly want to go to gym, it was almost eleven o'clock at night, but he felt that he needed an excuse to leave. She glanced up at him again.

"Most probably by tomorrow morning, or whenever he falls asleep." She spat, annoyed. All she wanted to do was watch some mindless crappy program and veg out. Questions not welcome. She knew his habits better than her own, of course. The past was a dangerous place for him and always resulted in panic-filled nightmares, which he would run away from by trying to outlast his internal body clock. It was a battle that he continuously lost.

"Ok, Natasha." Steve sighed, "I'm sorry. We'll see you in the morning." He left looking downtrodden, it wasn't the answer he had been hoping for but decided not to push it. Banner gave a half smile and followed him down the corridor to the bedrooms. Saying goodnight to Steve he thought he saw a glint in the blue eyed man, but was too tired to give it much thought. He was just glad he didn't have to pretend to work out.


End file.
